


Playing Hero

by ladydeathfaerie



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Get together fic, Language, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Pre-Relationship, coffee shop AU, mentions of gun waving, mentions of pain killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:35:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2799776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydeathfaerie/pseuds/ladydeathfaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Brewery is the best little coffee shop in the city. Phil Coulson really likes their coffee because he goes there often. Of course, the hot barista manning the counter might have something to do with his frequent visits. Steve Rogers is hot and blond and buff and Phil might be a little in love. Not that he'd ever say anything because he's sure that he isn't Steve's type. He's content to pine from afar. </p>
<p>Until the day a man waving a gun steps into the shop and puts lives at risk. Phil's a cop and he's trained to deal with situations like this. He's perfectly content to try and talk the gunman down. But Steve doesn't like bullies and when the gunman actually threatens to shoot someone, Phil gets to see Steve play the hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Hero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nausicaa82](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa82/gifts).



> written for nausicaa82 for the Lump of Coul fanworks exchange. would you look at that! this is my first coffee shop AU. i don't know if this is exactly what you were looking for in a fic, but i hope you enjoy it! i had a lot of fun writing this one.

_"Phil? Phil! God damn it, Phil! Are you even listening to me?"_ Nick's insistent voice pulled Phil away from his thoughts and back to the conversation he'd been having moments before stepping into his favorite coffee place. The Brewery was a small, independent coffee shop that kept pulling business in, despite being surrounded by big name coffee places and restaurants that served a cuppa to anyone who asked. It was cramped and dark and absolutely the most perfect place to sit down, have a hot cup of joe, and just breathe. It didn't hurt that one of the baristas had caught Phil's eye the very first time he'd seen him behind the counter. 

"What? Yeah, Nick. I'm listening," Phil got out in a hurry, trying to drag his attention away from the tall, buff blonde standing behind the counter. His heart was doing an odd little, pitter-patter beat in his chest and the air seemed stuck in his lungs. 

_"You're ogling him again, aren't you?"_ This time, there was amusement in Nick's words. Nick Fury was a world-weary man who did his best to save the world on a daily basis. He was also Phil's partner and waiting for Phil back at the precinct. 

"Of course I'm not!" Phil insisted indignantly. Nick chuckled, letting Phil know that there would be a round of twenty questions and general teasing happening at a later date. Nick obviously didn't believe him. Oh, well. It had been worth a shot. Phil held back his sigh and smiled when the man behind the counter caught his eye. A raised brow served to ask if Phil was having his usual. Phil nodded in return and moved to take a seat at an empty table. 

_"You're a terrible liar, Phil,"_ Nick reminded him. The man was silent a moment and Phil swore he could hear the gears turning across the line. _"Have you made your move yet?"_

"What? No! Why would you ask me such a thing?"

_"Because you've been pining for him for a good long while now. Man up and ask him out. What's the worst that could happen?"_ Nick was taking great joy in giving Phil a hard time. 

"I am not pining," Phil insisted, pausing when the object of his pining stepped up to the table and put a paper cup before him. Phil smiled as he fished a few bills out of his pocket, then made sure that there was extra for a tip before handing the money over. Steve, the hot barista, grinned at him, turned, and headed back to the counter. "And he could say no. That's what could go wrong."

Phil realized that the words were exactly the wrong ones to give to Nick when the other man gave a knowing laugh. Well, shit. Now he couldn't even actively deny his attraction to Steve, the hot barista. _"What if he says yes?"_

"He's young and really damned attractive. Why on earth would he say yes to someone like me?" Phil asked before taking a tentative sip of his coffee. It was steaming hot and perfect. There was a shot of hazelnut mixed into the cup and just a touch of cream. Phil sighed, content, and slumped back in his chair. 

_"Because you're a great guy,"_ Nick replied, voice suggesting this was something everyone should know. Phil included. 

"I'm much older than Steve is," Phil reminded Nick. The other man snorted, a derisive sound that told Phil exactly what his partner thought of that excuse. 

_"I've seen the way he looks at you, Phil. I've seen the two of you flirt with one another. Trust me. He's into you. Just grow a pair and ask him out. He might surprise you."_

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" Phil asked, exasperated. Nick chuckled at his question. 

_"Not a snowball's chance in hell,"_ he responded. _"Now hang up the phone and go ask the man out. And don't forget to bring me my coffee when you finally decide to leave the coffee shop."_ Nick disconnected before Phil could say anything else. Nick was going to be an ass about this. Phil could tell. He sighed and tucked the phone away in his suit coat's pocket. 

His gaze shifted to the counter and Steve, who was busy preparing a cup for the customer at the counter. Phil allowed his gaze to move over the man's arm and the way the muscles strained against the thin material of his t-shirt. Steve was tall and blond and built. And really fucking hot. Everything that Phil was not. And yet, Steve flirted with Phil every time Phil was in for his coffee. 

Steve had worked at the coffee shop almost from the moment it had opened, and Phil had been in love pretty much from the first moment he'd laid eyes on Steve. Phil knew that Steve liked art, and that he had taken college courses. He lived with two friends, guys that Phil had met one time when he'd come in after a sixteen hour shift. Sam was in medical school, intent on emergency medicine, and Bucky had been fresh out of the military. The three of them seemed an unlikely group of friends, but they worked well together and acted like the best of friends.

It hadn't taken long for Phil to slip up and flirt with the young man. He'd been mortified, had been ready to stammer out an apology and then never stop into the shop for coffee ever again. But Steve had smiled and flirted back, making inane little comments that Phil swore held more meaning in them than they should have. And so it had gone, back and forth, for months. Phil knew that Steve's parents were deceased and that he'd been a sickly, thin child. He knew that Steve had worked long and hard to get past some of the less serious physical ailments of his youth. And he knew, without having to be told, that Steve had done it because he'd been bullied as a child. There was something about the way he'd gotten between a fight between two teens shortly after Phil had met him that had told Phil all he'd needed to know. 

In return, Steve knew that Phil was a cop and that he was practically married to the job. Steve knew that Phil's mom had died only a few years past, leaving him pretty much alone in the world. He knew that Phil had never found that one person to settle down with and he knew exactly how Phil liked his coffee. Steve even seemed to know when he wanted plain black coffee and when he wanted something flavored. 

Whatever was going on between them, it gave all the appearance of being a match made in heaven. Except for the fact that Phil was much older than Steve and not as attractive. Steve could have his pick of anyone who walked through that door. Phil had seen many of the place's patrons eyeballing Steve like he was a prime piece of beef. If Steve ever noticed that kind of attention, he never acknowledged it. But, man. He flirted like mad with Phil. 

Maybe Nick was right and he should ask the guy out.

The tinkling of the bell over the shop's door pulled Phil out of his thoughts in time to see a young man enter the building. Phil caught a glimpse of a sternly set mouth and the way the man's hand was curled in his pocket. That was all it took to set off warning bells in his head. He pulled his phone from his pocket slowly. When it was out, he kept it under the table and flicked a glance at it to dial Nick's number. Even before it started ringing, he had his other hand resting on the gun at his hip. 

_"Did he say yes?"_ Nick asked with a grin in his voice. 

Phil was glad for the blue tooth ear piece. "I'm going to put the phone on speaker. Don't say a word. Just listen. And send a car or two down to The Brewery. There's about to be a robbery."

The newcomer's back was to Phil, giving Phil the opportunity to put the call on speaker, then slid it onto the table top. The ear piece came out and went into his pocket. He was about to draw his weapon when the other man tugged a big Beretta from his pocket and pointed it right at Steve. "Nobody move! I've got a gun and I'm not afraid to use it!" he shouted. 

Well, shit. 

There were a few other patrons in the shop and they all made panicked noises upon seeing the gun, then they were scrambling to get under the tables in the hopes that hiding from the gunman would save them. A few whimpers came from a young woman to Phil's right. He knew she was pregnant with her first child and she was due any time now. This was definitely not the best situation for her to be in right now. 

"I don't know what you want, buddy, but you don't need to do this. I'll give you all the money in the register if you'll leave without hurting anyone," Steve said calmly from behind the counter. Phil's gaze went to his to see that his blue eyes were locked intently on the gunman and his face projected as much sincerity as possible. 

"I can't do that," the man replied. His hand tightened on the grip to hide the way it shook. Alright, then. This wasn't a simple robbery. This was a hostage situation. "I don't want your money. I don't need it. Just shut up and don't talk to me." 

"If you don't want money, what do you want?" Phil asked. He was using his best 'I'm nothing more than a boring paper pusher' voice. It had served him well in other tense situations, so he was hoping it would be of use here. The man whirled, gun swinging around with him, until it was pointed directly at Phil's forehead. Phil slowly raised his hands to show he was no threat. 

"I want you to shut up. I want all of you to shut up!" he snapped. Phil saw that drops of sweat had already started to bead up on the man's face. 

"Look. There are a lot of innocent people here. Let them leave and I'll stay. I'll be your hostage," Phil said reasonably. He heard a few gasps and another whimper from the pregnant girl. They hadn't realized it was a hostage situation yet. Steve's look drifted toward Phil for a few seconds as he tried to read the other man's face for some hint of what he should do. Phil didn't look his way. 

"No. Nobody leaves. No one goes out that door until..." the man began, then trailed off. 

"Until what?" Phil prompted.

"Shut up! Don't talk to me! No one talk. Not to each other. Not to me. Just be quiet!" The man's voice was desperation and desolation. Phil couldn't begin to imagine what had happened to make him feel that way, to make him think that taking hostages in a small coffee shop was a viable solution. It wasn't his job to figure that out. It was his job to find a way to end this before anyone got hurt.

"Listen to me, man. I don't know what's going on with you, but there are people who can help. Just put the gun down and walk out the door. No one here will stop you." Phil could hear Nick mentally cursing him on the other end of the line. And the look that Steve was shooting him suggested he was doing much the same. Phil was concerned about getting everyone out alive. He didn't care if the guy went out the door on his own or in cuffs. But that couldn't happen until he put the gun down.

"Shut! Up!" the guy yelled. He moved closer to Phil, his finger twitching toward the trigger. The pregnant woman whimpered from under her table. It drew the man's attention for a second. "Holy crap! You're pregnant? Tell me you're not going to have that baby here. I just can't deal with that right now." 

The woman was sobbing, soft hiccupping sounds that prevented her from speaking. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was obviously not in any shape to answer his questions. The gun jerked her way when she didn't immediately answer him, drawing a squeak of terror from her before she started crying in earnest. She finally shook her head at him, hands curled protectively over her belly. 

"Becca isn't due for another few weeks. But you keep waving that gun at her like you are and she might go into labor anyway," Steve told him. The gunman turned to look at Steve. The gun was pointed right at his head, the man's grip tightening on it as he fought himself. 

"You shut up! Man, its guys like you that drove me to this!" he snarled. Interesting. The man with the gun was tired of being pushed around, so he was going to push back to show how big he was.

"Ah. So that's what this is. You've been treated like shit by the bullies all your life, so you're going to make yourself feel big and bully people with a gun so no one can stop you." Phil's voice drew the man around to glare at him. The gunman's gaze raked him from head to toe, then came back up. The guy sneered at him. 

"You're going to stand here and defend people like him?" He jerked his head toward where Steve stood. "You're exactly the kind of guy that people like him treat like shit." 

"I'm not defending anyone. And maybe guys used to pick on me when I was younger. But I don't let them do it now. This? What you're doing here? This is the same shit those guys did to you. This is bullying and no one here deserves it. We don't know you at all." 

"SHUT! UP!" the gunman bellowed. He closed the distance until he was standing across the table from Phil. The barrel of the gun was only a foot from his head. "Don't you dare defend them! Don't you make excuses for those horrible pieces of shit! They made my life hell. They all deserve the same treatment!" 

"And they're going to get it this way? You taking us hostage is going to teach them all a lesson?" Phil asked. The guy's hand tightened on the grip of his gun again. He might have said something more, but the wail of a siren out on the street drew the man's attention to the windows behind Phil. A second siren paired with the first, followed by a third and fourth. Sounded like the cavalry was arriving. 

"Cops? Who the hell called the cops?" the gunman asked, eyes moving around the room rapidly. The other patrons were still hiding under their tables, but Phil could see heads shaking rapidly. When the gunman turned back to Phil, his eyes dropped to the table where Phil's phone still lay out. The man frowned and the gun inched closer to Phil's head. "You? You called the cops?" 

Phil smiled. "Guilty as charged." 

Phil had been a cop for a lot of years. He'd worked his way up from a beat cop to a detective and he'd seen a lot of shit in his day. So he knew the look in the other man's eyes. It was one that said he was done with everything. He'd seen too much and he just didn't care anymore. He was going to shoot someone and Phil was his target. His finger inched toward the trigger. Phil dropped his hands, intent on going for his gun. And that's when all hell broke loose. 

Everything happened so fast that Phil knew he'd be missing things later when he went to fill out his report. 

Steve vaulted over the counter and threw himself at the gunman. Phil's weapon cleared the holster as he shouted out orders to stay down. Someone screamed and brought the gunman swinging around. There was one gunshot before Steve tackled the gunman and took them both to the floor. A second gunshot sounded even as Steve caught the man's wrist and tried to wrestle the gun from him. The man's arm hit the ground, the gun clanking against the linoleum. Phil put his foot on that hand and aimed his weapon at the man's head. Then the door behind him opened and voices filled the coffee shop as the cavalry poured into the place. Nick was at the lead. 

There was a flurry of activity as a couple of cops in blues hurried over to cuff the suspect. EMTs followed the cops in, their kits in hand as they spread out and began checking on everyone. One of them went right to Becca's side to check on her and make sure she hadn't gone into labor. That left Phil to stand and stare at Steve in awkward silence. Which lasted all of a minute until Phil noticed the wet stain on Steve's t-shirt. Drops of red were splattered on his arm. 

"You've been shot!" Phil said. Steve echoed him at the same time. Phil looked down at himself and found that the sleeve of his suit coat hadn't survived the encounter. 

"Damn it! That means I'm not getting my coffee," Nick frowned. 

Steve grinned at him even as Nick signaled a couple of EMTs over. "Next one is on me, Detective Fury. And the ones after that. Just wait until I get patched up." Steve's comment earned him a grin from Nick, who then turned a look on Phil that said he should just marry the guy already. Phil sighed and shook his head. He was never going to hear the end of this. 

~*~

"I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?" Nick asked as Phil worked the sweatshirt down over his head. It had come out of Phil's locker at work and Nick had brought it to the hospital so that Phil had something to wear home that wasn't bloody. He shot his partner and best friend a look that suggested he stuff it, then went back to sliding his arm into the sleeve as slowly and as carefully as possible. "Were you trying to get your head blown off?" 

"No. I was stalling until you got there to save my ass. You're my hero," Phil shot back. Nick snorted and shook his head, then glanced out the door of the room they were in. Phil knew what he was going to say even before Nick did. 

"Shouldn't you be saying that to your young stud?" 

"No. I should be chewing his ass off for almost getting himself killed." 

"He was protecting you," Nick replied. 

"Shut up and go home. I'll be in in the morning to do my paperwork." Nick grinned at him, then turned and headed for the door. He stopped before he stepped out into the hall and turned back to Phil. 

"He's in the room three doors down. Go declare your undying love to him now, while you're both under the influence of pain killers. Quit pining and ask him out." Nick ducked out the door before Phil could call him on his bullshit. 

Phil tried not to think about the reaction he'd had to realizing that Steve had been shot. He tried not to think about what Steve had looked like tackling the gunman. He tried not to think about Steve in any way, shape, or form. Tried and failed. By the time he was fully dressed and had gotten his discharge papers from the nurse, he'd convinced himself that he should go check in on Steve and make sure that the other man was okay. After all, he'd ended what could have been a very nasty hostage situation. He kind of was a hero. And Phil needed to thank him for keeping the gunman from trying to kill him. 

He didn't let himself think about what he was doing as his feet carried him to that door three down from his own. He was just going to thank Steve. Nothing more. He was not going to let Nick's over active imagination push Phil into doing anything that was stupid. 'Just stop in to say thanks, make sure Steve is okay, then go home.' That's what he told himself. 

But when he got to the door, it was to find that Steve was sitting on the table with a smirk on his face while Sam was busy chewing Steve out. No doubt Sam was there to ensure Steve got home without thwarting a bank robbery or some other dangerous attack. Sam was saying something about how stupid Steve was, eyes blazing and mouth moving a mile a minute. Steve was wearing a fresh t-shirt and a patient grin. Then his gaze slid to the door and his grin widened. "Detective Coulson. Just the man I wanted to see." 

Sam stopped calling Steve an idiot and glanced toward the door. His gaze shifted between them a few times before he sighed and shook his head. "I'll be in the waiting room. Just try not to mess up the bed or anything." And then he was out the door with an unreadable look tossed Phil's way.

Steve looked good. If Phil hadn't seen the blood spatter on his skin, he'd never guess that Steve had been wounded. Not even his hair was mussed. Which was hardly fair. How was Phil supposed to stick to his resolve when Steve looked so god damned delicious? Phil looked like a giant mess. He had to be out of his mind to think that Steve might have ever developed feelings for him. "I want to talk to you about something," Steve said, then hopped from the table. 

Phil saw the wince when Steve's feet hit the ground. And that was all he needed to lose his hold on his temper. He hadn't even realized that he was angry and frightened and worried until that little wince. Phil pushed the door shut before stalking across the room, anger burning in his eyes. Steve should never have tried to play the hero. Terrible things could have happened to him. 

The minute he stood before Steve, Phil curled his fist into the man's shirt and tugged him forward until their noses were almost touching. "Don't ever do that again! That was stupid and foolhardy. You could have gotten killed and that would have been a shame because you're really good looking and I want to kiss you and then maybe fuck you up against the wall and then kiss you some more." 

Wow. Phil hadn't planned on saying that. Not at all. So he kind of stood there and stared at Steve, the wind gone out of his sails, and hoped that Steve wouldn't laugh at him. Steve didn't laugh. He just stood there and stared back. For a few moments, at any rate. Then a huge smile spread across his face and he lunged forward, closing the distance to lay a scorching hot kiss on Phil's lips that saw his toes curling inside his dress shoes. It was filled with copious amounts of tongue and there was a little bit of groping going on. 

When Steve pulled back, he was panting for air and his eyes had darkened to that shade of blue that happens at the edge of the sunset, just before full dark falls. "Fucking is awesome. Do you think we should, what with the wounds and all? And can we do all the fucking at your place? The last thing I want to hear while you're fucking me is Sam and Bucky making comments." 

"Um... Yes?" Phil felt slow and stupid, his brain woefully behind on the conversation. But Steve smiled at him, sweet and dirty at the same time, and all of the blood rushed to Phil's crotch. 

"Great. I've got my discharge papers. So we can leave any time now." 

"Don't forget the condoms!" Sam and Nick chorused from outside the room. Apparently Phil hadn't gotten it closed all the way and they'd overheard everything. 

Well, shit.

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to Daz for letting me bounce ideas off her and for generally being my cheerleader. you're always helpful and always appreciated, hon! love you!


End file.
